


The Things That We Could Be

by Verai



Series: Ride Through My Heart [4]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Doggy Style, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Minor Violence, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verai/pseuds/Verai
Summary: You’re a freelance writer, trying to bust into the world of journalism. While the local paper gives you a few assignments here and there, you’re looking to catch a big break. When you start sniffing around one of the local motorcycle clubs, you find more than you can handle, and it leads you to discovering secrets about the owner of your favorite cafe, a man with warm brown eyes and the kindest smile.
Relationships: Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption) & Reader, Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption)/Reader, Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption)/You
Series: Ride Through My Heart [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748398
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	1. New Girl in Town

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been in my head for a while. Hope you like it. Also disclaimer: I did some light research on motorcycle clubs, but I really don’t know a whole lot about them, so this may come off as pretty generic. That’s fine, we’re here for the Charles smut, amirite? Also, can you guess what song I took the title of this fic from?

“C’mere Natasha,” you cooed at the calico cat that had walked towards you as soon as you had entered the cat area of Crafty Cats. This cat café was your haven, your home away from home, ever since you had moved to this area two months ago. Pursuing your career of news journalism, you worked for a local paper, hoping to get enough experience to break news left and right. It was the hunt for the story that drove you; the search for truth kept you going even when your boss cut your articles time and again. You dreamed of one day crafting the words that would move hearts around the world. 

But for now, with your crushing student debt, you settled for any job that would keep you afloat. Even though this town was small and relatively quiet, there were still stories to be told. Pulling out your laptop, you started typing away as Natasha leapt into your lap, curled herself into a ball, and purred loudly. Patting her absentmindedly as you hemmed and hawed over your word choices, a soft chime of the bells tied to the door heralded another visitor. 

"Your hour is almost up."

You looked up at Charles, the owner of the café. His long black hair was loosely tied up in a queue, but shaved on either side of his head. Tendrils too short to be tied back fell around his face, framing a strong jaw and a gentle smile. 

And that voice? Ooh, it was like sinking into a hot bath. You could listen to him talk all day. 

Unable to stop yourself, you pouted. "Already? It feels like I just got here."

Charles laughed softly before looking through the large window that separated the cat area from the café. Then he turned to you and placed a finger to his lips, winking at you. 

"Maybe you still have another thirty minutes left," he said with a smile. "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

You grinned. "You're the best, Charles."

He just shyly shrugged as he began to reach down toward Natasha. He paused, looking at you for permission to get closer. "May I?" 

"Of course," you said, leaning back to give him room. He gently pet Natasha's head, a smile on his face as she lifted her head to rub against his palm. 

You envied the cat so much at that moment. 

With Charles so close, you could see the profile of his face, so beautiful to you, and the lines of scars on his cheek and jawline told a story that filled you with a burning curiosity. You wanted to ask, but you also got the feeling that it would be overstepping some boundary and the warm aura that surrounded him would disappear.

So you swallowed your questions and continued to watch him pet Natasha for a few more moments. When he got up, he looked at you, almost as if he was going to pet you next. Or maybe it was just you projecting your fantasies onto him. He walked away, heading out the door and entering the cafe again. You looked through the window and watched him talk to the barista who was working at the bar, and then he headed through the back door, presumably to do manager things.

You turned back to your laptop. He had given you an extra 30 minutes. Better make them count.

***

“I thought you quit smokin’.”

Charles shrugged as Arthur came up to stand next to him, leaning against the back wall of the cat café. It had been a long day, and even though he rarely smoked anymore, today just seemed like that kind of day. He took a long drag, blowing out the smoke slowly as he looked up at the crimson sky.

“Who’s the girl?”

Charles turned to look at Arthur, an eyebrow raised incredulously. “How’d you know?”

Arthur chuckled. “You used to smoke a lot whenever you had your eye on someone.”

Charles let out a short laugh. “Am I that easy to read?”

“Nah, I’ve just known you long enough.”

Charles smiled as he put out the rest of his cigarette. “She’s a writer. Watching her work in my café… It’s nice.”

“You goin’ to make a move then?”

Charles turned to him, a wry grin on his face. “I’m not letting this one get away.”

***

You were packing up your laptop just as you saw Charles and another man come through the back door. It was sunset on a Saturday, and Charles always shut the cafe down early on Saturday nights to give him and his barista a break. Spotting the barista grin as she saw the other man, you were suddenly intrigued by the way they looked at each other, a heat to their grins as she reached for him, pulling him close. He kissed her forehead gently, his head tilting to one side slightly to gaze at her, and you felt as if you were watching a much more intimate moment. Heat flooded your cheeks as you quickly looked away, continuing to pack.

Once you had everything put away in your laptop bag, you moved to get up, but a small paw attached itself to your leg.

“Sorry Nattie, I can’t stay.”

The calico meowed and dug her claws in.

The door opened and closed. You could hear Charles laughing softly. “She really likes you.”

You managed to pry Natasha’s claws out of your pants and stepped out of the way before she batted at you again. “I’d adopt her if I could, but my apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

Charles nodded. “I understand. Arthur over there is in the same situation,” he said, nodding towards the man who was now holding the door for the barista as they exited the cafe. Arthur looked up and waved goodbye with two fingers as Charles waved back the same way.

He looked back at you. “If you ever move into an apartment that can have pets, you’ll have to fight him for her,” he joked. “Natasha only likes the two of us and Arthur.”

Your shoulders sank. You were stuck in a 6 month lease for the only place you could afford, a dinky studio apartment in the next town over. “It’ll be a long time before I can move,” you lamented.

Charles stepped closer to you. His concern was pouring out in waves; when you had told him during a previous visit about where you lived, he had immediately told you to go home while the sun was still out. You were still trying to figure out what places were safe and what places weren’t, and when he had talked about how the motorcycle club in that area had a tendency to harass new people to the town, you started to keep up your guard and to play it safe, getting home before dark and locking the door. So far, so good.

But you were also curious about this motorcycle club; were they really as bad as Charles said they were? He was just a cafe owner, what would he know about this? Had they threatened him in the past?

Your train of thought stopped when he placed his hand on your shoulder. His warmth was inviting, his touch was gentle. You wondered for a split second how it would feel to have his hands all over your body.

“Charles?”

“Just… stay safe, alright?” He looked away for a moment, thinking over something before looking back at you. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Alright,” you said, a little breathy. “Thank you.”

As if your heartbeat wasn’t erratic before, the smile that bloomed on his face made your cheeks warm and your breath quicken. You nodded at him and headed for the door, trying to hide how he was making you feel.

But as you walked past him, his hand brushed the small of your back, and he quickly caught up with you so he could hold the door open like a gentleman. “See you tomorrow?”

You smiled. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

***

Back at your place, you took a deep breath. You were going to do this. You were going to start investigating the local motorcycle club.

***

A week had passed. While you were churning out articles for websites and the local paper, you were also asking around about the MC. Most people just knew to steer clear of them, that if you didn’t bother them, they didn’t bother you. Some suggested you stop investigating them, to stop sticking your nose where it shouldn’t go. But of course, you couldn’t do that. You wanted to know what they were about, what was their motive. 

Some men wanted power & money. Others just wanted to watch the world burn.

You were hoping it wasn’t the latter. 

***

A banging on your door woke you up late at night. Startled, you grabbed the metal baseball bat near your bed and slowly walked towards the door, only for it to suddenly burst open. 

Three big, burly men poured into your doorway, the light outside making their silhouettes even larger.

“Heard you been askin’ about us.”

You swallowed.

One of them walked up to you. You swung your bat.

He dodged it and grabbed it, pulling it easily from your grip. “We don’t want to hurt you, baby. Unless you keep asking about us.”

“Why?” you asked. It was the first thing out of your mouth, and once you asked, the rest came out. “Why is this town so afraid of you?”

One of the other men stepped forward and grabbed you by the throat as you tried to step away. You clawed at his arm, but he was strong as steel, his fingers digging into your neck.

“We don’t owe you an explanation, lady,” he said. “Stop askin’ about us.”

“Or else,” the third man threatened.

You hated being told what to do. But you saw the danger in your situation. You clamped down on your urge to question them. It’d be hard to write a news story if you were in a hospital. Or dead.

So you kept your mouth shut and stared them down.

“You goin’ to stop?”

You nodded, just to get him to let you go.

The man let you go, pushing you backwards with a hard shove. You staggered back, but stayed on your feet.

“Don’t think about calling the cops,” the leader said, taking a practice swing with your bat. “They can’t protect you all the time.”

Then he swung the bat into your TV, smashing it into bits. Tossing the bat onto the ground, he and others laughed as they walked out the door and into the cold, dark night. As they left, you caught the symbol on their jackets: in large letters, ODB written across the top, with a green skull inside of a four-leaf clover below it. The letters MC were on the right of the symbol. 

It was the O’Driscoll Boys.

You fell to your knees, shaken and scared, but also filled with an all-encompassing anger, burning-hot and laced with frustration.

You had a feeling you weren’t the only one who had dealt with this. And you also had a feeling that you couldn’t stay here while you investigated further. As if this was going to stop you.

You just had to find another way.

***

You stared at apartment listings, trying to figure out a new place to stay. Unfortunately, so many things were outside of your budget. Maybe if you skipped a meal every other day?

“Tell me what happened.”

You blinked and looked at Charles, who had managed to sit next to you without you realizing. You were so deep into your house hunt that you hadn’t paid attention to what was around you. Perhaps it was because you felt safe here.

Perhaps it was because Charles was here that you felt safe.

He slowly reached for you, his fingers touching your shoulder. “Who hurt you?” he asked, gentler this time.

You reached up to your throat; your scarf had slipped down a bit, revealing the bruises around your neck. Looking down, you answered him in a soft voice. “The ODB MC.”

“Fuck.”

You looked up quickly. He had spoken with such hard anger that you were surprised to hear it from him.

You took a deep breath and told him what had happened last night.

At the end of your story, he took your hand in his big ones, making you feel small, but protected in his grasp.

“Do you have a friend you can stay with? You can’t stay there, it isn’t safe.”

You shrugged. “Not really.” The few friends you had lived far away. Family was far away too. You were stuck.

He squeezed your hand. “Stay with me. I can sleep on the couch, but I’ll sleep better knowing you’re safe.”

You blinked. He was offering his room for you? “Charles, I couldn't impose—”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. Please.”

Looking at his serious face, you nodded, accepting his offer. You had the feeling that if you refused, he was going to pick you up right there and then and keep you in his room anyway. There was an intensity to his protectiveness that stirred your heart, made you want him to lock you away.

He smiled. “Thank you. I’ll help you when you’re done here.”

***

That afternoon, he had his barista hold down the fort while he helped you pack up some of your essentials; you weren’t planning on staying with him for more than a week, but he let you know that you were welcome to stay for as long as you needed to. 

You had told your landlord that your place had been broken into and that the lock would need to be fixed. When he saw your bashed-in TV, he said nothing, solidifying your theory that he had turned a blind eye to the MC when they had walked through here. He knew, and he wasn’t going to do anything about it, which pissed you off even more.

***

Charles carried your two duffel bags full of your stuff up the stairs in the back of the cafe to his apartment. On the way to his place, he had told you a little more about the downtown area where he and his friends lived and worked. One of his friends, John, was happily married with a daughter and owned a flower shop close to the clock tower that served as the town center. His other friend, Arthur, worked at the local tattoo shop, but lived elsewhere. A lot of the businesses in the renovated part of downtown were live-work spaces, so Charles had his little loft apartment above his cafe.

“Makes the commute pretty nice,” you remarked as you followed him up the stairs.

“Yup. Have to be sure to at least put a shirt on though, or I get yelled at,” he said with a laugh. He had mentioned his barista was like a little sister to him, and that he was lucky to have her. He mentioned having put the idea in her head to go out with Arthur, and was happy they had gotten together. You wondered at his observation skills, to see to the heart of someone and what would make them happy.

_ Would you make me happy? _


	2. Close Enough to Touch

“Here we are. Mi casa es su casa, as Javier would say.”

_ Your home is my home.  _ You smiled; he had mentioned Javier a couple of times, that he didn’t come around while the store was open in case somebody recognized him. When you had asked Charles why he would be recognized, he had shown you a magazine. He flipped to one of the ads, and a man with tanned skin, beautiful dark hair, and a seductive smile, wearing some of the latest outfits of a well-known clothing brand took up a whole page. Charles had told you that he didn’t want the attention that he got sometimes and that his cafe was a safe place for him to chill with just the cats. Wanting a safe place was something you could easily relate to.

As you followed Charles inside, you took in his apartment; a door across from the entry led to a small bathroom. To the left of that was a kitchenette with a stove, oven, sink, microwave, and a fridge. Past the kitchen was a door leading to his bedroom, and to the left of that was a small living area with a sofa and a TV. Tucked away in the corner was a small table with two chairs.

Small, but efficient. It was definitely bigger than your apartment.

You peeked into his room, your temporary bedroom for the next week. Charles left your duffel bags at the foot of his bed. He had a king sized bed; he was a large man and needed the space. Unfortunately, because the bed was so large, there was hardly any space for anything else in his room, not even a desk. There was a chest of drawers on one wall and a small nightstand next to the bed.

“So, should we make something for dinner?”

You turned around and took the one step into the kitchen, watching Charles as he started to pull food out of the fridge. “Sure, but is there even room in there for me to help you?”

He turned around, looked at you, and smiled. “I suppose there isn’t. Unless you don’t mind being close.”

You swallowed. Was he saying things like that on purpose?

“I’m kidding. Make yourself comfortable. I was going to make some chicken and rice, if you don’t mind.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said as you bounded over to the couch and looked out the window that overlooked the street below. There were still people walking around, restaurants and breweries bustling with activity, but the windows were closed and blocked out most of the sound.

You went back to Charles’ room and grabbed your laptop bag, went back to the couch, and started working.

***

Dinner was wonderful, and you found yourself getting sleepy very quickly. After helping with the dishes, you told him you were going to settle in for the night, despite the early hour.

He nodded and bid you goodnight, grabbing a blanket and a sheet for the sofa. You felt bad about him offering you his bed, but when you had tried to talk him out of it, he stubbornly refused to hear you out.

Nestling into his large bed, you noticed that it smelled of him. You buried yourself under the covers, surrounded by his scent, took a deep breath, and felt protected for the first time in a long time.

***

You had not intended to wake up so early, but you supposed that was because of how early you had gone to bed. Stepping out of the bedroom with a change of clothes and your bathroom bag, you were shocked to full wakefulness by the vision before your eyes.

Charles had just exited the shower, wearing only sweatpants and a towel around his neck. His black hair was damp, loose around his shoulders and trailing down his back and chest, drops of water sliding down his body. His biceps made your mouth water, his pecs made your body burn with desire. Your hands itched to touch him, to feel his hard muscles under your fingers.

“G’morning,” he said as he looked up at you. Walking towards you, he pointed a thumb at the shower. “It’s all yours.”

You could only nod, your eyes catching a glimpse of the outline of his manhood through his sweatpants. Trying to hide the sudden sharp intake of breath you took, you scurried to the bathroom, desperate to take a shower and drown out the burning of your lust.

***

You weren’t proud of the fact that you had imagined Charles pinning you up against the wall in just his sweatpants, his hair deliciously framing his gorgeous face, his hands holding your wrists above your head. Stroking yourself in the shower, picturing him pulling out his huge cock as he spread your thighs, and then taking you against the wall in an animalistic show of primal lust, rutting into you as if you were the last woman on earth, you came so quickly that you nearly forgot to hide your small cries.

Cleaning yourself off, you finished your shower, did your usual routine, and came out of the bathroom, sated but feeling somewhat guilty. You jilled off in his bathroom! You couldn’t believe yourself, but after seeing  _ him _ like  _ that _ , how could you not?

“Coffee?”  he asked from the kitchen as you walked by.

“Yes please,” you said as you put your bathroom bag and pajamas into the bedroom and came over to the small dining table. Charles placed before you a hot mug of coffee with only a little splash of milk, just the way you liked it.

“Thank you,” you said gratefully as you sipped the delicious nectar of the gods. “God, this is just as good as you make it in the cafe.”

“Of course, it’s the same beans. I buy a batch for myself whenever I put my order in.”

“It’s not just that, you make it so well… I end up using the wrong temperature or the wrong amount and it ends up tasting gross.”

“I’ll teach you my ratios,” he said as he sat next to you with his own cup. A few moments of silence passed as the two of you enjoyed your drink.

“Are you alright? I thought I heard you cry in the shower.”

You nearly choked on your coffee. “I- I’m fine! Just nearly dropped my razor, that’s all. No biggie. I’m fine.” You winced, knowing that you had repeated yourself, knowing that it sounded like you were lying, which you were.

Charles looked at you for a few moments more, your heart pounding with the stress. Finally he nodded. “Alright, but if you’re not feeling well, don’t push yourself.”

You mentally let out a huge sigh of relief. Outwardly, you smiled. “Thanks Charles. Really. I owe you big for helping me out.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, his hand reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me know if you need anything.” 

You swear his voice dropped an octave when he said ‘anything’.

***

The week passed by far too quickly. Every morning was the same; you would take your shower after Charles, then he would go downstairs to open the cafe while you did some writing or did phone interviews in his living room until it was time to meet someone in person. When you weren’t working on a news article, you were researching the ODB MC, or you were apartment hunting. You found very little on the internet about the MC, and your apartment hunt was turning up nothing.

Worried that you would be overstaying your welcome, you planned to go back to your old apartment by the end of the week.

As Charles came up the stairs after closing up the cafe on the last day of the week, he spotted you packing your bags once more. You had sprawled out your items at the beginning of the week, but now you had put everything away.

“You found a new place yet?” he asked as he leaned against the doorway.

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“I’ve been here a week, I think it’s been long enough.”

You heard Charles’ footsteps as he padded up you and knelt down next to you on the floor. You wouldn’t look at him, didn’t want to see his eyes, because you knew whatever he said, you would listen if he caught you in his earnest gaze.

So when he took your chin between his fingers and turned your head towards him, you were trapped by the worried look in his eyes.

“Please. Stay. Until you find a new place.”

You swallowed. You worried that you were troubling him.

It must have shown on your face, as his eyes roved over your features. He suddenly leaned in and kissed your forehead gently. “You’re not a burden. I’m happy to have you here.”

As he got up and walked back to the kitchen, you slowly raised your hand to your forehead.

Had he really just kissed you?

***

You ended up staying for another week, and with each passing day, you felt more and more guilty for staying with Charles. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell that sleeping on the couch wasn’t the more restful sleep for him. He was yawning more often, and looked a little more tired every day. He even had spent a good chunk of his day off taking a nap.

Determined to find your own place so you’d stop feeling like a leech, you spent more time looking for apartments.

Your luck seemed to have turned around by the end of the second week. You had found an ad on Craigslist for someone renting out an apartment closer to downtown, a basement level unit for super cheap. When you went to look at the place, it was surprisingly clean and neat, but it was also very small. However, the price was right and the location was much closer to the cat cafe, which was a significant plus for you.

You bit the bullet and broke your lease with the other place. Fortunately, the landlord understood why you were doing it. Unfortunately, he still made you pay the huge fee that came with leaving early.

With your bank account mostly drained, you were left with no real way to move your stuff out other than by taking everything apart and dragging it to your car on your own.

But Charles insisted on helping you. And he brought his friends.

John, Arthur, and Javier, along with Charles, came by to help you move your stuff out of the old place and into the new one, making your move so much faster. John had brought his pick up truck, and you had your ancient Honda Civic. Although the other guys just had their motorbikes, they were stronger than you and could carry boxes and furniture all day, leaving you to do clean up and organization. 

You were grateful for their help, offering to buy them pizza when you got your next paycheck. They had laughed it off, saying that they needed the exercise anyway. You weren’t sure how much Charles had told them about your situation, but when they all told you to stay safe, you had an inkling that he told them enough.

***

After you had moved into your new place, you still felt the need to come home before sundown, but as each day passed and you felt safer in your new place, you stayed out later and later. The library was safe, and you started to regularly stay until they closed at 8PM.

Driving past the café, you looked through your window to see Charles sweeping the floor. 

It was only a moment, but you swear he looked up and saw you. Part of you immediately felt guilty for not paying heed to his warning, but you shook that feeling away. There was no way he would have recognized your generic looking car. 

Your phone suddenly rang, the ring tone coming over your car speakers via Bluetooth. You glanced at the screen. 

Charles. 

Hitting the phone button on your steering wheel, you girded yourself. 

"Hello?" 

"You just drove past, didn't you?" 

"...Yeah."

"Don't get out of your car, I'll meet you at your place."

"I'll be fine, they haven't bothered me in a few weeks."

There was a heavy silence for a few moments before he spoke again. "That's what worries me. I'm coming to you, if only for peace of mind."

You knew better than to argue with him when his voice was like this: deep, commanding. It was sexy as hell, even as you rolled your eyes at the fact that he was probably being paranoid. 

You parked your car in your car spot and got out, just as Charles pulled up on his bike, an Indian Chief Vintage, decked out in all black. 

"How'd you get here so quickly?" 

He glared at you. "Didn't I ask you to stay in your car?" he asked, ignoring your question. 

This time you definitely rolled your eyes. "C'mon Charles, I have my mace, I know some self defense, it's not that far from here to my door, it'll be–" 

Just as the two of you were about to reach your door, the three men who had harassed you before stepped out from around the corner. 

Charles immediately stepped in front of you. 

"Get outta here, lover boy. We just want to talk to the lady."

"I know your idea of 'talk'. Leave her alone."

The three men loomed closer. 

“Or what?” the leader asked, sneering.

Charles just stood his ground, but you observed his stance widening slightly, his muscles flexing as he prepared to defend you.

You took a step back and widened your stance as well. Holding your keys in one hand like a knife and wielding your mace in the other, you stood ready to defend yourself.

However, all three of them went at Charles, attempting to grapple him to the ground. They completely ignored you as they threw punch after punch at him.

Seeing Charles stand his ground and landing a few good punches on his own, you gained the courage to help him. You launched yourself at the nearest man and swung your elbow at his face. Landing a hit on his cheek, you quickly jumped back as he swung a fist at you.

“Bitch,” he snarled as he turned his attention towards you. 

You quickly sprayed him with the mace. Yelling in pain, he grabbed at his eyes and took a few steps away from you. Then he suddenly charged at you blindly, catching you off guard. Knocking you to the ground, he grabbed your face and squeezed, all the while coughing and gagging.

You jammed your keys into his arm as hard as you could, but despite his growl of pain, he wouldn’t let go, keeping your head in place. His eyes closed, he lifted his fist, about to pummel your face in.

Then he suddenly flew off of you as you watched, almost in slow motion, as Charles roundhouse kicked him in the head, knocking him away. You quickly got up as the two other men launched themselves at Charles. He dodged one, only for the other man to wrap his arm around his neck in a chokehold. As Charles pivoted around and broke the man’s chokehold on him gracefully, he grabbed the man’s wrist and pushed it down at the same time pulling his elbow upwards with no mercy.

The sickening sound of a shoulder being dislocated echoed in the air, the man groaning in pain. 

Throwing the man away like yesterday’s news, Charles turned to the other man, who was currently backing away.

“Oh shit… you from the VDL.”

You blinked. The VDL? The Van der Linde Riders, a small but powerful motorcycle club that disappeared almost a decade ago? They had caused trouble, but had never been caught for anything illegal, though there were reports that any other gang picking a fight with them would inevitably leave town. 

You wouldn’t have believed it, if you hadn’t seen him fighting just now. 

Charles glanced down to see his shirt sleeve torn, revealing a VDL tattoo on his shoulder. He looked back at the man and grinned viciously. 

The man paled.

“Take your friends and leave,” Charles said in a low, threatening tone. “And if I ever see you back here…” He let the threat hang in the air as the three men regrouped and left quickly, not even bothering to look back.

You looked at Charles, his chest heaving with the exertion, his shirt was torn from the fight, bruises starting to appear on his cheek, and his lip a little bloody.

And you were incredibly turned on.

Charles softly called your name as he held his hand out to you. “Let’s go back to my place,” he said. “It’s not safe here.”

You took his hand and nodded as he led you back to your car.

In the rear view mirror, watching him ride his bike beside your car as you drove back to his apartment, you had a glimpse of who Charles had been, and wondered what had led him from being an outlaw biker to the owner of a quiet cat cafe.


	3. A Story For You

Inside of the bathroom, the two of you stood under the fluorescent lighting, a first aid kit on the countertop. He was close, too close, but he had ushered you in without a word, a gentle hand on your elbow guiding you.

You had wanted to help Charles with his injuries, but he had insisted on seeing to you first. His movements were careful as he cleaned your face with a warm washcloth, his eyes sad when you winced on occasion. After he finished cleaning your wounds and putting on bandaids, he removed his jacket and let you help him put some ice on places he couldn’t reach while he cleaned up.

“I wish I could’ve protected you more,” he said as you put the last bandaid on him. “You didn’t have to join the fight.”

You shrugged. “I couldn’t just stand there like some helpless princess.”

He smiled. “I know. That’s why I worry so much about you.” Caressing your cheek softly, his fingers lingered over the bruise that was starting to form near your jaw where the man had gripped your face. “You seem like the type to jump into danger without looking.”

Then Charles suddenly pulled his hand away. “I guess you want to get some rest now.” He stood and turned to leave the bathroom, but you reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Were you really part of the VDL Riders?” you asked.

Charles’ eyes hardened for a moment, his shoulders tensing slightly. “Yeah.” When you said nothing, he asked, “Does that change anything?”

You shook your head. “You’re still you. Just makes you more interesting.”

His shoulders relaxed and his eyes grew kind once more. “What, being a cafe owner wasn’t interesting enough?”

You laughed. “You were plenty interesting to begin with. I had always wondered, what kind of man, looking the way you do, runs a cafe in conjunction with the local animal shelter to help pets get adopted?”

“Looking the way I do?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah. Tough guy haircut, leather jacket, rides a motorbike into work, muscles upon muscles, could probably throw me around with one arm…” You trailed off when you saw him looking at you with much more interest than you expected. “Wh-what?” you stammered.

“Noticed my muscles, did you?”

You sputtered helplessly. He caught your slip-up, and your quick wit had left you high dry, like a fish gulping for air.

He laughed and stepped closer to you. You quickly looked up at him, watching guardedly as he leaned down to look you in the eye. 

“You want to see all of my muscles then?”

You swallowed and nodded.

He grinned and took off his shirt, throwing it in the corner. You saw a few scars on his torso, probably from fights in the past, but mostly you just saw a big, brawny man, who probably could pick you up with one arm.

Your heart raced and your body heated up with desire. 

“Please manhandle me,” you mumbled.

“Speak up, baby girl.” He stepped close and pulled you into his embrace, his hips pushing you against the counter, his warm chest pressing against yours. “What do you desire?”

“I want you to manhandle me!”

He grinned. “As you wish.”

Suddenly you were lifted up, his hands gripping your ass as he placed you on the countertop. Spreading your legs, you wrapped them around his waist as you put your arms around him, touching his back, splaying your fingers out to feel as much of him as possible. He leaned in and brushed his lips against yours, quietly waiting for permission.

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

As if your words had unlocked the floodgates, Charles kissed you passionately, devouring you with each passing moment. His soft grunts of need filled the air as his hands pulled at your clothes, steadily stripping you down between heated kisses, his lips bringing a fiery wave of lust each time. He pulled off your jacket, your shirt, and as his hands nimbly undid the fly of your pants, you started to get off the counter.

Instead, he wrapped one arm around your waist, lifted you up, and pulled your pants down. You held onto him, surprised by his sudden movement, but it only made you hotter, your thighs feeling wet as he dragged your panties down. Kicking them off the rest of the way, you stayed in Charles’ arms like a ragdoll as he placed you back on the counter, the cool surface against your bare ass contrasting with his warm body.

He stepped back for a moment and quickly unzipped his pants, shoving his boxers down with them. Kicking them off to one side, he stepped back towards you, his cock hard and ready. You reached down and wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, watching his face as he took a deep breath. His eyes fluttered closed as you touched him.

You pulled on his cock, spreading your legs to give him access. Kissing your forehead, he reached past you and opened a drawer. Pulling out a condom, he kissed your lips as he opened the package. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered as he rolled it over his thick cock. “You ready for me?”

“Yes, please, fuck me Charles,” you begged.

Encircling your hips with his large hands, he pulled you to the edge of the counter, the tip of his cock nudging your slit. He leaned his forehead against yours, and together you watched him take you, pushing into you slowly. Both of you moaned together, a synchronous sound of ecstasy as he hilted inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you moaned. “You feel so good…”

“So do you,” he murmured. He slowly pulled out and then pushed into you again. He gradually increased his pace, his eyes meeting yours as he started to lose control. His mouth opened slightly as he panted, his grip on you tightening, and you swear you felt his cock swelling inside of you.

“Grab my neck,” you demanded.

After a moment’s hesitation, Charles wrapped his hand around your neck, gently enough that you could still breathe, but tight enough that you could feel the strength of his grip. You felt so aroused that you dared to beg for more.

“Fuck me from behind and pull my hair!”

“Anything you want, baby,” he rumbled as he pulled out of you, lifted you off the counter and roughly turned you around. His hand still around your neck, he bent you over and shoved his cock back inside of you, hitting a spot deep within that made your toes curl. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as he grabbed your hair by the base of your neck and started to pound into you. Your hands shot out to brace yourself against the mirror, and you got a good look at the scene.

Charles was behind you, his hands around your neck and in your hair, his hips thrusting hard into you, while you were bent over, tits bouncing, looking like a porn star, begging to be fucked. You caught Charles’ eyes and smiled.

“Your cock feels amazing,” you slurred, drunk on lust. “You feel so fucking good, I wish you’d fucked me sooner,” you babbled.

Charles grinned as he leaned over you and spoke into your ear, his low voice sending sensual vibrations through your brain. “I’ll give you as much of my cock as you want, baby girl.” He thrust upwards, hard, making you cry out with pleasure. “To make up for lost time.”

His hands left your hair and neck to grab at the rest of your body instead. He trailed down your breasts, playing with them while he was leaning over you, his hips giving you short, shallow thrusts. Trailing one hand down your belly to your center, he found your clit and started stroking you without mercy.

You started cursing and moaning, losing yourself to everything but his touch, his soothing voice as he wrapped a hand around your neck again and arched your back upwards. His thrusts became deeper, longer, as he commanded you to look in the mirror.

“See that? See your lovely face while I’m fucking you?” He kissed your cheek. “I want to see you come for me. Can you come for me, angel?”

“Oh fuck, yes!” you cried out. His words, his cock pounding you, and his fingers stroking you made your body release all the pent up lust you’d had for this man for so long. You spasmed in his arms, reaching back and clawing at his body as he continued to fuck you, riding out your climax until you began to slump over.

“So beautiful,” he moaned as he came, his eyes focused on your blissed out face as he thrust hard inside of you, holding you tightly as he finished. He kept holding you as he caught his breath. 

“You okay?” he asked after a few moments. 

“I’m better than okay,” you said, smiling. “I… I’ve wanted you for a while. I’m happy you feel the same.”

Charles carefully pulled out of you. Making sure you could stand steadily on two feet, he cleaned you with a washcloth before cleaning himself off. Always you first, you noticed. He really was a nice, goodhearted man.

Naked, Charles wrapped his arms around you, picked you up, and carried you to his bedroom. “Bedtime,” he said as he tucked you in.

“Are you staying with me?” you asked hesitantly. You knew some people could comfortably have sex and yet could feel that sleeping in the same bed was too intimate. Looking at Charles, you doubted he was like that, but couldn’t hurt to ask.

Charles nodded. “Of course I’ll stay.” He slipped under the covers with you and held you close. “I wouldn’t give up cuddling.” Nuzzling your shoulder, he let out a content sigh. “Good night, angel.”

Your heart raced, and not because of lust this time.

You were falling in love.

***

You woke up, your arm wrapped around a warm body. As you blinked awake, you heard a low moan, almost like a pur. Focusing on the man next to you, the first thing you saw was the profile of his face; so peaceful in sleep. You slowly got up to get a better look at him, but he stirred and opened his eyes to meet yours. He broke into a radiant smile.

“Good morning,” he said softly, his voice caressing you like a lover’s touch. Two simple words, and yet it felt as it was the first time you had truly heard them.

“Good morning,” you replied, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose.

He suddenly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. “I wish I could wake up next to you every morning,” he mumbled.

You froze. It was a little too soon; after all, you just shared an explosive night of action and adrenaline-filled sex. 

Charles’ hands pet your back soothingly, like one would a kitten. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“But is that how you really feel?”

“Yes.”

You pulled back, resting your arms on his wide chest so you could face him. He was looking at you so lovingly that you had to look down for a moment and collect yourself. When you looked back up, you spoke your mind. 

“I need some time. But I’m not opposed to the idea.”

He caressed your face. “Of course, angel. I understand.”

***

You went back to your apartment and decided to stick it out through the end of your lease; it would only be six months, after all. 

Finishing your article about the ODB MC, you managed to get people talking about the issue again. For so long, people had been ignoring the problem, but bringing it back to light again had sparked a fire, and complaints started pouring in as people wrote in with their own stories of harassment, both to the local government and to various local news outlets.

Things were turning around, and while you were a little worried that they might come to get vengeance, you took steps to avoid the possibility. You did as Charles asked, going home at night, making sure to text him when you were home and in the morning so he wouldn’t worry about you. Talking to the landlord, and then to your neighbors in the apartment building, you all agreed to report any suspicious activity to a group email list that you had set up so that everyone would be aware of anything happening nearby.

Six months flew by, your career steadily growing as you became a trusted voice of the press. While there were tough days, there were also days when you could bring the stories of the people to everyone and help bring solutions to those who needed them. That satisfaction was worth all the hardship, the long days interviewing and researching, the rewrites, the retractions, everything.

During all of this, you and Charles grew closer and closer. You realized that your weekends were mostly spent with him, and slowly, more and more of your things ended up staying at his place. You realized that he had been rearranging things slowly, making space for you as he observed your habits.

***

By the time your lease was up, half of your things already had a home in Charles’ apartment, but you still had to sell some of your furniture and pack up the rest before the last day. The weekend before the big move, you noticed his apartment looked a little different.

“These weren’t here last week,” you commented idly when you saw the second chest of drawers in his bedroom and the additional bookcases in his living room.

“You’re moving here next weekend, I figured you’d need them,” he said matter-of-factly. You had mentioned that you had been living out of boxes for some time now, but that had been at the beginning of your relationship and you didn’t think he’d remember such a small detail.

The fact that he just did remember, and he did something about it without being asked was making you feel a little guilty. “Sorry you had to make room for me,” you said.  _ I think I love you _ , you thought to yourself. You weren’t ready to say it, but you could feel it.

He shook his head as he took your hands and brought them to his lips, kissing your fingertips. “There will always be room for you here, just like there will always be room for you in here,” he said, bringing your hands to his heart.

You swear you heard his thoughts in his gentle, solid heartbeat.  _ I love you too. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out waaaaay longer than I thought it would. Hope you enjoyed the story! Did you guess that the title of this fic is from Counting Stars by OneRepublic? Or that the other two fics in this series also are song lyrics? (Before This Dance is Through = The Beatles, I’m Happy Just to Dance With You; The Light That You Shine = Seal, Kiss From a Rose) Anyway, Javier is next up! I can’t wait to nerd out and talk about some of my other interests in his tale!


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